


aftermath

by ashinan



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Episode Related, Exhaustion, M/M, Schmoop, episode 55, hand holding, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-27
Updated: 2019-03-27
Packaged: 2019-12-18 02:42:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18240770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashinan/pseuds/ashinan
Summary: Fjord seeks stability.





	aftermath

**Author's Note:**

> OKAY SO originally this entire thing was gonna be longer and kind of a continuation of [forced wisdom](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18114647) but then I just. I just wanted to write soft boys okay. soft boys holding hands and being exhausted together. how could I not. they are just. very Soft and that is my brand soooooo. it is quite short, which I apologize for, but I hope it conveys the Soft I was hoping for!

The cavern they set up in reeks of smouldering demon blood. Fjord leans heavily against the wall, eyes closed, and mouth open to bypass the smell. Faintly, he can make out Jester talking low with Caduceus, her tone thick with unshed tears and joyous relief. Caduceus’ soothing drawl answers and Fjord exhales. Drops his chin against his chest. His heartbeat thunders like waves crashing in his ears.

Uk’otoa hums, disgruntled, in the back of his head, furious that he had fallen for the seduction and had almost been lost. If Fjord wasn’t so sure that Uk’otoa was a possessive shit, he’d believe that anger was care. As it stands, Uk’otoa’s grasp remains tenuous at best out here in the open plains. When on the sea, Fjord had _felt_ that oppressive thrum right down to his bones, as deep and unknowing as the ocean herself. Now, so far away and potentially in the lands of other potential Gods, Uk’otoa’s constant pushing and shoving showcases as a child’s tantrum. The enraged hum crescendos at that thought. Fjord pushes off the wall.

As Fjord limps his way to the center of the cavern where Caleb has set up shop, he bypasses Beau and Nott, discussing how to split the platinum, and Yasha’s quiet, still form. Gently, he places two fingers against her shoulder. Her eyes flick up to him, mouth a thin, scared line, and Fjord sighs. Might be best for Yasha and Caleb to talk later; their Celestial chats always perk Yasha up after a harrowing fight. Though Caleb might not be up for anything but silence. Yasha bows her head. Fjord continues on.

The rest of the journey to Caleb’s side takes its toll. Fjord’s exhausted, beaten and bloody and emotionally wrecked both by Caleb being seduced into attacking them, and Fjord’s own failure to recognize when he was being toyed with. Should know by now, what with an ancient sea God begging for his attention on the daily. Should definitely have figured that shit out after the whole clusterfuck with Caleb.

Caleb’s reading from his spell book, sooty fingers flipping pages and running haphazardly over sentences blurred by time. Fjord folds down with a groan; fuck, he’s getting too old for this bullshit. Caleb doesn’t say anything, doesn’t remove his attention from his book, and that’s just fine with Fjord. He shuffles forward. Caleb’s gaze flicks over to him with a curious brow raise. Fjord ignores the unsaid question and wiggles until he’s not crowding Caleb, but close enough to touch. With another weary sigh, Fjord drops his forehead on Caleb’s bony shoulder.

“Hullo, Fjord,” Caleb whispers.

Fjord inhales. Ash and ozone and the faintest trace of petrichor. “Hey, Caleb, how we lookin’?”

Caleb’s shoulder rises in a shrug. “It could have been much worse.”

“That’s our motto, right?” A broken laugh and at least four ribs broken still. Everything aches. “You look like you’ve died four times.”

Caleb’s shoulders shake for a different reason. “A joke? Truly, Fjord?”

Rolling his forehead against Caleb’s shoulder, Fjord says, “I’m either on my game or off, and I’m too exhausted to be on. Please tell me you’re okay.”

Silence. Caleb exhales, his entire being deflating for a moment. Shaky fingers catch and hold Fjord’s own, a desperate clutching Fjord returns tenfold. Every inch of Caleb trembles, his grasp nearly too tight, but he remains upright. Fjord wouldn’t be. Honestly, Fjord would love to be horizontal right now, sleeping off the last six months of his life.

Granted, that would mean missing out on time with Caleb.

“You were charmed,” Caleb starts slowly, “when I was – under the influence. Did you see…?”

The pause proclaims everything Caleb doesn’t say out loud. Fjord closes his eyes. Didn’t even realize he was under the influence at the time but it’s all so clear in hindsight. The warm Zemnian accent in his ear, that steely certainty that Fjord loves so, underscored by a tidal wave pressure to _obey_. It had been so easy to fall under, to listen to that hum in his chest that strained so desperately toward Caleb. To protect. To have.

Caleb squeezes his fingers. “Fjord?”

“Yeah.” Fjord grates out. “Yeah, ‘course. I - yeah.”

Another shuddery sigh and Caleb’s cheek brushes against Fjord’s hair. Their palms rasp dry together, dried blood and spell components and calluses catching. The tips of Caleb’s fingers remain sooty and ash choked, as though the core of him always smolders. Fjord’s own are sea worn and weathered, massive against the frail shiver of Caleb’s palm. Fjord lifts their hands. Brushes his lips, delicate, over the bony bumps of Caleb’s knuckles. Soot and ozone and _his_. Caleb says nothing. Fjord exhales.

“We gotta talk to the Lady about what we did here,” Fjord says. Caleb nods, his shoulders lifting as though in preparation for Fjord to leave. Fjord stays resolutely put. “Doesn’t mean we gotta do it now. Could really use some worry free sleep here, yeah?”

Steely, Caleb murmurs, “ _Ja_. I will keep you all safe.”

Fjord hums and says nothing more. Caleb returns his attention to his books, the arcane building around him in waves, ozone bumping against Fjord’s nose every time Caleb finishes another glyph. His steady cadence lulls Fjord into an almost trance. He drops their hands until he’s cradling one of Caleb’s in both of his. Thin human fingers and fragile human skin; scars spin into fractals, burns and gashes and crystals dragged free, and Fjord smooths his thumb over the worst one along the meat of Caleb’s palm. His human is made of fire and resolve, a powder keg housed within skin stretched thin. Yet, Caleb had run for Fjord immediately, had sought shelter behind Fjord even with the knowledge that he had caused harm.

“We have you,” Fjord says, pressing his thumb to the center of Caleb’s palm. Caleb’s fingers twitch and his words trail off. “ _I_ have you.”

Silence, except for a single hiccupping breath. Caleb’s nose brushes against Fjord’s hair, his lips ghosting against Fjord’s forehead. “I know, _Bärchen_. Thank you for trusting me.”

Caleb returns to his spell. Fjord continues to hold on.  

**Author's Note:**

> come follow me on [my fandom twitter](https://twitter.com/ashinanfandom?s=09) (where I am crying all the time about critrole) or [my nsfw twitter](https://twitter.com/assinan13?s=09) if you want a bit more spice in your life!!


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